Traitorous Hearts
by Lilimaro
Summary: A drabble series of the villages and what they represent to certain individuals. (I don't really know how describe this, so just check it out.)
1. Prologue: Konoha

Their eyes wander about, picking out prey. Predatory feet fall in step with the unsuspecting prey, it continues on its way unfaltering. As it rounds the corner...the predator pounces. By the time the prey realizes anything, it'll be too late.

Society values the future. No matter if your crimes, they'll never put true punishment on the future. The future is unstable. All the predators are neglected by the ones society dictates as mature, for they fear for themselves. They control them, mind numbing the act of their futures. None step forward. For they are all selfish creatures.

They hang on the edge of the cliff, fingers slowly slipping as time wears on. Knives held close to their hearts, they start to freeze from the inside. As the cold spreads, their minds lose the compassion they once held. The cold takes over. Pain becomes numb, and they have nothing to fear.

Bitter cries are silenced as the selfish ones fear for themselves. They muffle the cries and jeers into corners, and as they do that, they turn them into predators.

Fear causes irrational thoughts. People fear what they do not understand. Adults attempt to find a logical path in order to curb their fear. If they cannot find one, they will exterminate it altogether.

Predators have not lived long enough to become selfish as those who were not born in the era they were. Instead, they fall back on basic instincts. They become beasts as they wander through their lives.

As the ice takes over, they tie them together. Those who have lost, the ones who have hated, and the ones who have seen Hell itself, they will become survivors. The ice will freeze their hearts and free them from the flames. The flames will become their power, and no matter what they do, society will always forgive them.

After all, those born before the era of ice are selfish. And the selfish will excuse anything to save themselves.

Predators are just children.

And children are the future.

The selfish will forgive.

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And forgive they will.

* * *

As the alley is painted beautifully, the predator moves on.

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 **Uhh. This was just a prologue for the villages in doing. I'll do an intro for different villages so watch out for that. This was the one I made for Konoha, hence the fire part. I've always held a love for the baddies so I'm mostly gonna do drabbles for them.**

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 **(And before I forget, I OWN NOTHING. NARUTO IS THE PROPERTY OF MASASHI KISHIMOTO.)**

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 **Anyways, I hope you review and stuff cause I kinda need feedback to know what to do.**


	2. Orochimaru: Konoha

Serpentine eyes glide over it's target. The prey unsuspecting, _as expected._ Those deadly eyes follow it's every movement, taking in all weaknesses and it makes plans to exploit each and every one of them.

Those golden eyes hold an unparalleled _need._ The need for recognition, the need for power, the need for _living._ It's curiosity never dwindles, it only expands beyond the thoughts of it's prey.

They will never understand the _longing._ The sharp blankness that ices over his heart. The ice is cold, _oh so cold._ But the fire is what he fears. The fire warms him, it gives him feelings he does not want. _Not after having the ice with him for so long._ The fire is said to protect, from the shadows. But he is wiser than those pitiful herbivores. He _knows._

Fire is volatile. It cannot be tamed. It can only be guided. A flame is dangerous, _he knows because the ice starts to melt around it,_ no matter how small. Even the smallest flames can ignite a forest with enough materials. _It is what makes the forest dangerous._ The flames will catch and burn, _they support eachother like the roots of a tree,_ and they will follow him until they extinguish. But even as they extinguish, they will leave a mark of their existence. And that mark will haunt the hearts of the next flames. _He does not want the sins of the past._

The ice is fragile. It preserves beauty in it's wake. The fragility of it's piercing power is what entices him. It rules over those who have given up the indecisive flame. The ice will always be there.

 _It claws at him when he is dreaming._

Even for its downfalls, the ice never leaves. It shelters him from the brutality that is the flame. The flame will never appreciate the fragility that life contains.

 _That is why he will pull all he can from humanity to live. Life is much too short to control._

That is the difference between the ice and flame. The ice will cocoon him in a protection of cold hearted pain, but the flame will bring him even greater pain with its constant presence. The ice will never leave a mark, _the true definition of a shadow,_ but a flame will never cease to exist. Ice will dominate slowly, taking over subtly, preserving beauty. Unlike the flame which will burn and destroy all, in its song as it rages a warpath.

The ice is calm, and it always will be, _that brings him comfort._ While the flame will fluctuate and die off within seconds. _It disturbs him how beauty can be killed so easily. How unreliable._ The flame beckons him, trying to overwhelm him with its presence. _He does not like it._ The flame nears him. _It is blinding in its brilliance._ He decides. _The flame will only hurt him in the end. But for now, he'll stay for the power it provides._

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 _However._

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 _He will always be loyal to the ice._

 _His heart doesn't belong to the burning flame that doesn't appreciate the beauty of fragility._

* * *

Serpentine eyes flash as the prey drops. It's silver fangs are swallowed in blood. _Drip. Drop. Drip. The rhythm pulses in his skull._ The area is painted in what one would call mercy.

Lifeless eyes hold nothing but joy. _No time to even comprehend it's doom._ The snake had waited until it's joyous feast was done to strike. _Mercy belongs only to the strong._

As fangs are retracted, the snake blends into the grass. Waiting until the day it finally frees itself from the suffocating gases that is the flame.

 _._

 _Curiosity drives the mind, and what drives the mind drives the heart. What drives the heart drives their life. Life is much too fragile to appreciate. He'll take all he can salvage of this iced heart to appreciate all he can of this wondrous beauty._

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 **Agh. So. This one was the drabble thing I made for Orochi. And, like, yeah. Feedback would be nice because I don't even know what I'm typing half the time to be honest. Uh. Okay. BAM.**


	3. Uchiha Brothers: Konoha

Eyes as red as blood stare into the eyes that were identical to his. A storm rages in one, and the other creates a storm. Those identical eyes share the same stars that glint in the night. _They share the same love for one another. No matter who denys it._

The tainted blood that binds them is filled with flames. The fire is their blood, it's their power, it is a symbol of their sacrifice.

It is that very same blood that blossoms their love into hate. It is the flame that turns the family of fans into their own enemy. It is that flame that turned against it's own. It is that _very_ flame that burnt itself out.

The two flames have circled eachother for years. Burning and flickering to keep one another alive.

For one, it is the need for the second to be alive. The second ignites his desire to survive. To live until the second is ready.

While for the other, it is the first that unintentionally rules over his life. The first is not only an ambition, a hate, or a love. He is the flame that continues his only goal in life.

* * *

The inexperienced one resents the flame. The flame burned out his clan of fire and sent a flame to extinguish the very fire that they were. The flame would not let him pursue his goal. The flame held him back with pointless thoughts of _teamwork and friendship._ Blasphemy. Friendship would never come from the flame. Especially those who were fostered over by the flame.

The experienced one does not hate the flame, nor does he love it. The flame was the one who made him take out his own kin. And for that, his heart wearily watches the flame. But it is also because of the flame that his beloved brother was born, and for that he trusts in the flame. The flame was a way of life.

~O~

The flame was what made them what they were. In their flame-filled blood, they will always hold the flame dear to themselves. And as the flame swathes the forests in it's warmth, they watch the ascendance of the one who will carry out the prophecy.

* * *

The older had lived through the era of change. He witnessed when the flame had been at it's pinnacle of brightness, and he watched as that flame was shot down. He accepted it as it was. The flame was gone, and without that yellow flame, _the one that shined over them with the warmth of the sun,_ the world would shatter. Because only those of the true flame will filter warmth through the world. He was not one of them.

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And that was why he threw himself to the shadows.

~O~

The younger was born as the climax of the yellow flame dwindled. He was barely comprehensive as the world was plunged into darkness and hate. He was dipped into a world of revenge when suspicion and paranoia was at it's peak. He started to understand the world when it was ruled by a fever of jealousy. Then he drowned in his hate, _or was it love,_ as the world damned itself to chaos. And he when he knew what needed to be done, he was already too far gone. _There was no going back now._

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He blinded himself in a tempest of hate.

* * *

It is through the flame that they both witnessed the ice. The ice that had brought them to the red dawn.

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And it was through the red dawn that they begin closure.

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The final stage has started.

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 _Who would carry their curse of flaming blood now?_

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 **Okay. So here's the next one. I don't remember if I told this before or not, but my updates will come at random. I don't really have a set schedule and I really just do as I please. So just deal with it if I just suddenly vanish off the face of the Earth for a while. I'll be back sometime.**

 **Anyways, I hope you favorite and review.**


	4. Prologue: Kirigakure

People fear the unknown. The unseen. To be unable to control what stands before them is a fear unparalleled. _Because the unknown is powerful._

That is where the children of the Mist are born.

The mist is a terrifying thing. A dense fog that settles over your vision, blocking you from seeing anything. It makes even fully seasoned shinobi hesitant. Not for the blindness, _they have faced more than blindness in their life,_ but because death awakens in their minds instead _._

But it's not the mist itself that makes them cautious, however it is what lies _within_ the mist is what makes them weary.

In the mist hides a silent walk of death. Nameless and faceless beings prowl in the mist, patrolling and defending what is theirs. _They defend themselves. Because in the mist, all they have is themselves._

But they do not stray from the mist. Because the mist is their cage. In the confined mist, they lay in waiting for their next prey. Be it one that walked in on its own, unaware, or one that was thrown in for them to eat.

They are volatile. The mist is a dangerous place. Not only to outsiders, but to the ones who live in the mist as well.

Only the strong survive in the mist. The mist will tear them apart if they are weak. The mist brings them from the ground and makes them strong.

As children, they are weak. The mist does not want them to serve it. The mist beats them into the ground. The mist wrecks them beyond comprehension in order to foster it's very best soldiers.

Now they are strong. It does not matter whether or not they are still children. The strong will slaughter the weak. This is the way of the mist.

The mist is relentless. It will attack all that enter it's domain. There is no distinction of enemies and allies in the mist. Not even between friends and family. There is only the prey and the predator. None shall escape it's clutches.

As the mist starts to close in on itself, the predators begin to escape. Because now the cage will not provide what they need. It will not satisfy their bloodthirst. And the prey, who's corpses lay around them, have become boring. _The cage has become weak._

And in its final moments, the mist wraps itself in it's traitorous brethren. It gifts them with a part of the mist. It gifts them with the power of silent death. _It blinds them to death._

The power of fear and blindness now rests in their hands. The mist will make them a legacy. Not to the village, but a legacy of the mist, of the fog, itself.

They will lay waste to the world as the end nears.

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 **I am backkkkkk. It's 2016 yoooo. Anyways. Here's the chappie/prologue for Kiri. I'll be kicking it off this year with Kisame in the next chappie. So wait for that.**

 **And many, many thanks to the guest who reviewed. It really made my day. I have literally never been so happy.**

 **So. I hope your favorite an review! I'd love to see your opinions so far.**


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